


The Debt

by luciebell_writes



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciebell_writes/pseuds/luciebell_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader is one of the mayoral candidates that Penguin must dispose of, but things don’t go to plan when Victor Zsasz comes calling…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Penguin had ordered the murders of every mayoral candidate, so you were Victor Zsasz’s next target. Following the murder of Janice Caulfield and attempts on Theo Galavan’s life, you had to admit that you were already aware of the risk your candidacy posed towards your own safety - yet you hadn’t imagined to find the hitman in your home just days after the first few attacks on those campaigning for the title of Gotham City’s Mayor. 

You turned on the light to find him standing in the corner of the room; watching you with an unreadable stare. Your eyes quickly noticed the gun in his hand and you shook your head desperately; although you were frozen in place, unable to make a run for the door or scream for help. The house was virtually empty after all, except for…

“You’re not going to say something?” The hitman asked with an almost amused smirk; your lack of screams and pathetic pleas for your life definitely different to the reaction he was used to. Victor took a step towards you, smirk in place. “Wow, you’re good. Not even a tear…”

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered, glancing towards the door as if to consider all your options. If you remained where you were, you would surely be shot instantly; however would it be just as fatal for you to run? 

Victor shrugged, “I’m just doing my job; it’s nothing personal.”

“What’s this guy paying you? I’ll double it…” You insisted; desperately thinking of some way to avoid the sad fate that was looming over you. You just wanted to make a difference in Gotham, to reform the system to grant equal opportunities to all, while eradicating the large amounts of corruption from the government and GCPD. So why did you deserve to be punished for having genuinely good intentions?

“That won’t be necessary Ms Y/N.” The hitman shook his head and you noticed his grip around the gun tighten. 

You grimaced at Victor’s refusal; it ultimately sealed your fate after all. A part of you wanted to run, to see how far you could get before the hitman put a bullet through your skull, but your fear had left you unable to do so. But it was the anticipation that was the worst part; just standing there like an easy target, waiting for your downfall, was torture enough.

However, Victor seemed to find great delight in the sight of your fear, sensing your inner turmoil. “Are you sure you don’t want to run? I always love the chase…”

“Mom?” 

Both you and Victor turned around to see your son standing in the doorway; a puzzled expression on his tiny face. “Who’s that, mom?” He asked, waddling over to you with complete oblivion to the visible danger in the room.

“Sweetheart, you have to go back to bed…” You whispered, glancing from your young son’s innocent expression to Victor; a look of pleading in your eyes as you feared that your only child was also in grave danger. “It’s…It’s late…” 

Victor should’ve stopped wasting time. He should’ve pulled the trigger there and then; completing his given task and satisfying the Penguin, but somehow he couldn’t. Looking into the widened eyes of your son, Victor caught a glimpse of his younger self - how innocent and irreproachable he had once been - and he just didn’t have it in him to rob the young child of that. Victor Zsasz, the emotionless hitman, didn’t have the heart to kill you in front of your son. 

You held your son tightly while tears ran down your face, as if you were saying goodbye before you met your tragic end, but you then noticed Victor’s gun return to his pocket and your heartbeat stopped momentarily. Was this too good to be true?

“Have a good evening.” Victor told you suddenly before he moved to leave the room. 

Although you should’ve just let Victor leave, being grateful for still having a pulse because of his sudden change of heart, you couldn’t let him go without so much as a word on your behalf. 

Following him to the front door, you gave him a quizzical look. “Not that I’m not relieved but…why did you do that?”

“You owe me a favour, Ms Y/N.”

Then he left, just like that. Leaving you both thankful to still be alive, and also curious as to when he’d be returning to cash in the debt you owed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Victor Zsasz showed his face in your house again within even less time than you’d initially imagined. It hadn’t even been a week since your first encounter with the hitman and, although you felt reassured that he hadn’t murdered you, the event had truly opened your eyes to the ever-prominent danger that accompanied your candidacy for mayor - thus prompting you to withdraw from the election altogether. If not for your own safety, then for that of your young son.

The sound of rattling downstairs caught your attention and, despite the fact that the logical response would’ve been to immediately call the police, you felt inclined to investigate the noise yourself, just in case…

Taking out your handgun from inside the bedside table, you slipped down the stairs; following the sounds of movement into the kitchen, where you quickly switched on the light and raised your gun at the shadow rummaging through your cupboards. 

However, just like you’d somehow expected, the home invasion was being orchestrated by an all-too familiar figure.

“Where do you keep the bandages?” Victor asked you calmly, as though his action of breaking into your home in the early hours of the morning was completely normal. 

“Christ, I could’ve killed you!” You lowered your weapon and set it down on the counter as you went over to help Victor in his pursuit of a First Aid kit. 

Victor laughed wryly at your exclamation and you recognised the strain in his tone. “You couldn’t kill me. This is just a flesh wound…”

“You got shot?” You asked, opening a drawer and taking out a roll of bandages; pointing to the stool for Victor to sit down. “I thought you were a skilled hitman.”

“This never usually happens.” He insisted; initially reluctant to let you touch him. “I can do that myself.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling amused by his stubborn independence. “Then why are you here?”

“I was in the area.” Victor retorted quickly as he removed his jacket, wincing slightly at the sharp pain in his side as he did so. “Besides you owe me a debt.”

“Well I thought you’d choose a higher form of payment than having me play nurse.” Your lips curled upwards slightly and you moved to wash your hands, not wanting to inflict whatever ‘flesh wound’ had been inflicted on Victor.

Finally the hitman had stripped away all items of clothing from the top half of his body, which granted you a rather appealing sight; although your gaze quickly wandered from his defined chest to the small tally marks on his arm. You almost forgot why Victor had taken off his layers of clothing and maybe you stared at the scars for longer than you should have because the hitman soon cleared his throat; directing your attention to the more pressing matter of his bullet wound.

As you cleaned him up and bandaged the wound, you couldn’t help but notice how pensive Victor appeared; it was almost as though he was lost in deep thought, or perhaps the hitman was simply thinking of his next job, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Hey, you’re not thinking about killing me are you?” Your sense of humour had always been a little morbid but it did put a small smile on his face. “Because if you are, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Victor shook his head, “of course not.” He glanced down at the bandages. “You didn’t do a bad job.”

You smiled somewhat proudly at his compliment. “What can I say? I’ll have to turn my kitchen into an infirmary for assassins.”

Once again, you found yourself subconsciously getting drawn towards the not-unattractive man before you; in particular, the sight he gave you when he stood up from the stool. Many would’ve argued that he was too close for comfort but, well, the view wasn’t that bad. 

Victor stared down at you, meeting your gaze as if he was expecting something. “What’s wrong?” You asked quickly, reluctantly averting your eyes from his toned torso - as well as the deep tally marks that appeared to have been painfully carved into his otherwise perfect form.

“My shirt…” He nodded towards the counter behind you, where his clothes had been laid out. 

“Oh, right…” You nodded somewhat bashfully and handed Victor his shirt; although he tensed up when your fingertips brushed against his hand. Glancing upwards to meet his intense stare, you realised how physically close you were standing and it didn’t intimidate you in the slightest. He didn’t scare you anymore.

Neither of you could’ve predicted what followed. 

Victor had tossed his shirt aside to pull your body towards his as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, kissing one another deeply. When the moment had passed, you just couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired between you and the man who had been sent to kill you mere days ago; it felt like a brief hallucination, a lapse in your consciousness. Yet Victor was still watching you, a look of intrigue on his typically unreadable face.

“What…Where does that leave us now?” You asked, feeling yourself growing hot and flustered under the hitman’s gaze. 

“I don’t know.” Victor shrugged and moved to close the space in between your bodies once again, trapping you between his form and the kitchen counter. “But maybe we can figure that out.”


End file.
